


Mi amor es tácito

by capedrobin



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Blow Jobs, Denial of Feelings, Feelings Realization, Getting Together, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2018-10-03
Packaged: 2019-07-24 11:08:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16173842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/capedrobin/pseuds/capedrobin
Summary: Gerard and Sergio sometimes fuck. To relieve tension.That's all it is.No need to make a big deal out of it.





	Mi amor es tácito

**Author's Note:**

> comments please :)

The roaring of Camp Nou still echoes in Gerard’s ears as he is roughly shoved against the lockers. A tattooed hand snakes its way into his shorts, but his mind is still on the sound of the stadium choking on its cheers on the ninety-third minute. He viciously bites Ramos’ lip. The madridista grunts and kisses Gerard with fierce, pent-up anger. 

Jerseys are soon tossed aside, followed by shorts. Hands roam about cut abs and broad backs. The kissing only gets more heated, and the breaks less frequent. When they do pull away, they pant heavily as their lungs are burning.

With a cheeky smile that Gerard makes a point of not dwelling on, Sergio gets on his knees. His tongue darts out timidly, almost as a joke, before taking him to the root. Gerard tries in vain to hold in his moan. His hips are pinned to cold metal as Sergio methodically takes him apart. Gerard cradles his head gently and strokes his hair without giving it much thought. 

Nonstop whimpers filter their way through his lips. He cannot help it; Sergio is simply much too talented with his mouth. The thought makes Gerard slightly jealous, since he knows what it implies, but it gets knocked out of his head quickly as he is otherwise preoccupied. The greedy, wet noises Sergio makes are really something. Gerard could listen to them all day.

He does not want to come yet, however, so he taps Sergio out. The Sevilian gives his cock one more hard suck before complying. Gerard’s knees almost give out on him on the spot. 

When Sergio rises to his feet, Gerard kisses his soft, full lips. The action is more loving this time around, the adrenaline having been partially purged from their systems. He thinks he tastes himself on Sergio’s tongue. It feels right. Gerard captures his face possessively, enjoying the feel of scruff under his palms. Sergio tightly wraps his arms around his waist. As their kiss turns filthier, a finger starts circling Gerard’s entrance. He buries his head in Sergio’s neck as it goes in. It’s tight, so tight. But he starts giving after a while and they find a rhythm. A second finger joins in, and then a third. Gerard is soon writhing on Sergio’s hand, moaning wantonly. He flushes with embarrassment, but he cannot shut up. It does not help that Sergio spurs him on. 

_So good, Geri. You’re so hot when you get like this. So slutty, fuck._

As good as his fingers feel, they are not enough. Gerard needs more. He cannot bring himself to beg quite yet, however. 

While he can see the need in Sergio’s eyes too, the Real Madrid captain knows that he can outlast Gerard, who will not be able to hold on much longer. So he keeps teasing, with his fingers, and his tongue, and his words. They have done this enough times that Gerard knows that he values breaking his composure more than he does instant gratification. But Gerard is stubborn, too.

It is only once Sergio’s hand is tired and Gerard’s ass, sore, that he gives in. It feels wrong, submitting to this man in his own home, but he is desperate. So he begs. Red-faced, he begs. 

_Please, Sergio. Fuck me, fuck me. I want you. Fuck me, please._

Sergio does not drag out his embarrassment. He lays them both on the cold tile floor and hooks long legs over his shoulders. He lines himself up. Gerard can feel his wet girth so tantalizingly close and bites his lip. They do not bother with condoms anymore, which is probably the most overt sign of trust they have ever given each other. Sergio slides home.

The air is pushed straight out of Gerard’s lungs. His lips part and his eyes close. Sergio dictates a punishing pace and Gerard revels in it. The noise they are making is obscene. The smacking of flesh, the grunts, the moans, the whimpers and the pleas all echo lewdly in the mostly empty stadium.

Gerard loves how animalistic Sergio gets, even if it often leaves him sore. The man from Camas is single-minded, frantic and relentless. His teeth make routine appearances during their encounters, as they leave marks up and down Gerard’s neck. It drives him wild. It does not feel as if they are simply having sex, or fucking. It feels as if they are mating.

Gerard ends up bent in half under Sergio’s weight, impaled on his big cock. He can barely breathe and has long since lost the ability to form words, much less sentences. He has been reduced to whining mess of nonverbal begging. Sergio is not fairing much better. He only has two words left in his vocabulary: 'joder' and 'Geri'.

Gerard is starting to ache all over. The hard floor is killing his back, his hips are bruised from Sergio’s iron grip and his ass has been fucking wrecked. He does not care, however. He most likely will tomorrow, when he will also be figuring out how to cover up the string of hickies Sergio has so considerately left him. But at the moment, the only things on his mind are his impending orgasm, and how unbelievably beautiful Sergio looks.

Gerard comes while fixating on Sergio’s darkened eyes. It is sudden and almost violent. His vision blurs for a moment. Sergio fucks him through it. He is brought back down to earth by the rich feeling of the Andalusian coming inside of him.

Sergio collapses on top of him as soon as he is finished, without pulling out. They always allow themselves this one intimate moment. Gerard full of Sergio, of his come and of his cock. Sergio sleepy and pliant on his chest, pressing chaste kisses to his sweaty skin.

They don’t let it go on for too long. While pulling on their discarded outfits, they steal shy glances at one another. Neither says anything.

They walk together to the parking lot. They come across Sergio’s car first and Gerard takes that as their cue to part ways, as they always do. But before he can awkwardly wave goodbye, Sergio tenderly lays a hand on his cheek.

“Hey.” He seems crushingly vulnerable. “You know any good restaurants nearby?”

Gerard cannot recall a time when he smiled wider. His cheeks hurt almost as much as his heart.

“Why, yes. I do.”

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote it in under an hour so there are probably some mistakes :/  
> Also, Spaniards say 'joder' a lot, so I can only assume they say it while fucking too. If not: sorry, Spaniards!


End file.
